


Deception

by MadalineGrace



Series: What's Your Emergency? [17]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Attacked, Gen, Hospital, Hurt/Comfort, Stabbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23832322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadalineGrace/pseuds/MadalineGrace
Summary: It was everywhere – in pools, smears, sprayed across the walls – and in the center of it all, was Buck. Eddie froze in horror. He was sprawled in a lake of red, his skin deathly pale. Blood ran from deep wounds in his chest and abdomen. One slashed arm lay outstretched, reaching out toward his cell phone just inches from his fingertips.
Series: What's Your Emergency? [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1688359
Comments: 13
Kudos: 269





	Deception

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a story for something else about a year ago with the same premise and, for a while, I've been thinking that it would be great with these characters. I finally decided to go for it and rewrite it for 9-1-1, although I borrowed heavily from my original work. Turns out it still takes forever to write something, even when you already have a template. I hope you all are enjoying these stories as much as I enjoy writing them and of course, I hope you all stay safe and stay well!

It was a quiet morning at the station, and it took Eddie less than a minute to realize why. After a quick check of the locker room, common areas, and bunks, it became clear that there was one glaring absence.

“Hey, anyone seen Buck this morning?” He asked, joining the others in the kitchen. Bobby glanced up from the pancakes he was tending on the stove.

“No, now that you mention it. It’s not like him to be late these days. Have you tried texting him?”

“Yeah, but he’s not answering.”

“Doesn’t he have that court thing today?” Chim suggested, snatching a piece of bacon as he passed by.

“No, that’s tomorrow.” Corrected Hen. “I spent the better part of last night helping him pick out a suit.” She added with a fond chuckle.

“I can’t believe our little Buck is all grown up and taking the witness stand.” Chim said proudly, wiping away a fake tear. “Really, could any of us have guessed that our resident playboy with a penchant for pissing off the brass would one day be instrumental in taking down one of LA’s worst crime bosses?”

It was true that Buck had become something of a celebrity within the law enforcement community lately. While on a call a few months back, he’d witnessed Clinton Burris, a hitman for a prominent Los Angeles crime syndicate, setting a fire to conceal evidence of a murder. Not only had Buck seen enough to identify the victim, he had also chased Burris across eight city blocks before finally tackling him and turning him over to the authorities. Law enforcement in eleven countries had been trying to prove Burris guilty for decades, but had never had anything concrete…until Buck. Although the fire consumed most of the evidence, enough survived. That, combined with his damning testimony, was sure to put Burris away for the rest of his life. The trial was set to start the next day and Buck was the star witness.

“He certainly has come a long way.” Agreed Bobby with a smile.

“But none of this explains why he isn’t here or picking up his phone.” Eddie reminded them. Bobby must’ve caught something in his tone because he set down the spatula and fixed Eddie with a serious look.

“You think something’s wrong, don’t you?” Eddie blew out his cheeks.

“I…think that Buck is never late. Not since after the whole lawsuit thing. This job means way too much to him. And I think that Buck always answers his phone, even in the damn shower.”

“Eddie’s right.” Chim conceded. “This is weird and I don’t like.”

“Ditto.” Hen concurred. Bobby considered for a moment before nodding.

“Alright, Eddie, go swing by his place and see what’s going on. I fully expect you drag his ass out of bed.” He said, only half joking. Eddie was out of the room before Bobby had even finished. Maybe this was nothing. It was _probably_ nothing, but he couldn’t shake the bad feeling. It was that tingly, itch-behind-the-shoulder-blades feeling soldiers got when they knew snipers were in the area. That feeling of just waiting for the hammer to drop. _No_ , Eddie thought as he started his truck, _something was definitely wrong_. He just didn’t know what.

* * *

As Eddie parked next to Buck’s Jeep, the feelings unease grew. When he reached Buck’s unit, he stopped, instantly on alert. The door stood slightly ajar, cracked and splintered so that it didn’t quite fit in the frame anymore. Eddie felt his breath catch in his chest at the sight of dried blood smeared on the handle. He was at once desperate to see what was on the other side and terrified of what he might find. Realizing that there was no time to waste, Eddie kicked the door open and rushed in.

The place was a mess. Furniture was overturned and smashed to pieces. Pictures and lamps lay shattered on the floor. Buck’s wallet and keys lay discard haphazardly by the front entrance. And the blood…

It was everywhere – in pools, smears, sprayed across the walls – and in the center of it all, was Buck. Eddie froze in horror. He was sprawled in a lake of red, his skin deathly pale. Blood ran from deep wounds in his chest and abdomen. One slashed arm lay outstretched, reaching out toward his cell phone just inches from his fingertips.

“Buck?!” Eddie was at his side in an instant, sliding to his knees on the wood floor. His finger flew to Buck’s neck and he waited through twenty agonizing seconds before he felt the faint flutter of a heartbeat. Weak and uncertain, but there nonetheless. Eddie nearly sobbed in relief. Trying to ignore the wetness seeping into the fabric of his jeans, he quickly grabbed a basket of washcloths that had fallen from the kitchen counter pressed them to the worst of the wounds. Then, he fumbled in his pockets for his phone and dialed 911, his bloody fingers sliding sloppily across the screen. In a few terse sentences, he relayed the situation to the operator before tossing the phone aside. With that done, he gathered Buck in his arms, using his entire forearm to hold pressure.

“Buck? You’re gonna be okay, do you hear me? You’re gonna be fine. Just stay with me.” Eddie could hear the sirens in the distance and he prayed with every fiber of his being that they’d make it in time. Every breath that wheezed past Buck’s bloodless lips seemed weaker than the one before. Tears broke from Eddie’s eyes and splashed down onto the bloody shirt below.

“Come on, Buck. You can do this.” He whispered fiercely, burying his face into Buck’s blond hair.

Minutes went by and Eddie was startled by the sudden arrival of the LAPD. He was even more surprised to see Athena leading the way into the apartment, gun up and eyes hard. Her gaze softened at the sight of the two of them on the floor.

“Holy mother of God…” She muttered, holstering her weapon as the rest of the officers continued to clear the loft, then kneeling beside them. “I was in the area when the call went out. When I heard the address I…” She swallowed heavily. “The 118 is four minutes out. What the hell happened?” Eddie shook his head.

“I don’t know. He didn’t show up for work this morning and wasn’t answering any of our calls, so Bobby had me come check on him and I found him like…“ Eddie couldn’t finish the sentence. Athena put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll have people search the place and CSU will be here soon. We’ll figure this out.” Without prompting, she picked up an unused cloth and pressed it to one of the slashes that Eddie hadn’t been able to get. “How’s he doing?”

“Not good. I don’t think-“ Eddie broke off when Buck groaned softly. He glanced down, eyes wide with naked fear and hope as Buck stirred faintly in his arms. “Buck? Buck, can you hear me? It’s Eddie. I’m here, just hold, alright? I’ve got you.” He could see his mouth working, his eyes trying to open as he tossed his head back and forth.

“You just hang in there, baby. Help’s on its way.” Athena assured him. Buck’s lids had parted fraction and it was clear he was trying to speak. Upon seeing Athena, Buck reached a hand out and grasped weakly at the sergeant. Athena frowned. "Buck? What is it? What's wrong?" Buck tried, but he couldn't form the words. Blood bubbled from his lips and ran in lines down his chin.

"Shhhhh, don't try to talk." Eddie soothed, trying to conceal his panic. Buck didn't seem to hear him and his grip on Athena's shirt tightened. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he tried again to speak, but all he could manage were a few incoherent sounds, wet and wrong.

"Just relax, sweetheart. We'll find who did this to you." She promised. What little strength Buck had seemed to fade then, and he went limp in Eddie's arms. A moment later, Bobby rushed through the door, followed closely by Hen and Chim.

“Oh my God…” He breathed, face draining of all color. Eddie looked up and sent him a pleading look.

“What do we got?” Chim asked, slipping into his role as a paramedic with only the slightest tremor in his voice.

“Multiple stab wounds. I count at least six. Maybe five or so slashes too. I don’t know about other injuries, but he’s losing too much blood. He lost consciousness about thirty seconds ago.” Eddie filled them in. He could imagine was he must look like to them, painted in blood like some horror movie extra with Buck lying like a corpse in his lap.

“I’ve got decreased breath sounds on the right.” Hen announced. “His lung is punctured and collapsing. I’m gonna prep for a chest tube. Bobby, you wanna get him on that O2?”

“On it.”

“Okay, Eddie, let’s get these trauma dressings on.” With Chim’s help, they managed to seal the wounds well enough to last the short trip to the hospital. “Hen, you got that chest tube ready?”

“Tube’s good. Starting him on saline and lactated ringers now.” She answered succinctly.

“I’ll call and have them standing by with several units of A positive. He’s gonna need a lot of blood.” Bobby said worriedly.

“I think we’re ready to transport. Eddie, you comin’?” Chim asked. Eddie didn’t bother to respond, just shot Chim a hard look as he helped lift Buck onto the backboard.

“I’ll wrap up and meet you there.” Athena said, moving to hug Bobby, but stopping when she remembered the blood on her hands. “Take care of our boy, okay?” Bobby nodded, eyes full of unshed tears as he followed the stretcher out.

* * *

The streets of Los Angeles were uncharacteristically calm that morning and Chim couldn’t have been more grateful. It was as if the city knew how fragile Buck’s life was at the moment and had decided to open its gates and allow them to pass unimpeded. He could feel his phone vibrating incessantly in his pocket. _Probably Maddie_ , he thought grimly. There was no way she didn’t know that her baby brother had been the subject of the morning’s grisly call. He’d come to learn that she had eyes and ears everywhere. As much as he wanted to call and reassure her, right now his attention needed to be entirely focused on Buck. The kid was barely hanging on and Chim wasn’t about to let him slip away on his watch.

With Hen and Bobby up front, expertly navigating, that left he and Eddie free to concentrate on Buck. Every ragged breath and monitor blip was tracked and analyzed. They worked in tandem, applying compresses and adjusting intravenous flow rates with every minute change in the man’s condition. While Chim was technically the more senior paramedic and, in most situations, everyone tended to defer to his judgement, he was more than happy to let Eddie take the lead here. Chim may have more experience in certain areas, but there was no denying Eddie’s skill as a combat medic. Trauma was his specialty and, horrific as it was, he was in his element.

They were three minutes out, just beginning to hope that maybe they’d caught a break, that they’d gotten there in time, when the monitors started screaming. Buck’s face never changed, remaining as slack and pale as ever, even as the EKG tracing went from a frantic flurry of sharp peaks to a harsh, flat line.

“No…No, damnit, no!” Eddie swore, slamming the heels of his hands into Buck’s chest as he started compressions. “You are not doing this, Buck. Come on!” He thrust down hard, again and again, feeling blood squish through his fingers and a rib snap beneath his fists.

“Checking for a pulse!” Chim called, holding up a hand for Eddie to pause. A moment later, he shook his head and delivered two quick breaths through the bag before prepping the defibrillator.

“ _Please_ , Buck…”

“Charging to 360…Clear!”

“ETA one minute!”

“Charging again…Clear!”

_Please…_

* * *

Buck rose slowly from the depths of unconsciousness, sensations returning to him one by one. The rhythmic hiss and beep of machines, the smell of antiseptic, a pinch at the crook of his elbow. Gradually, his brain managed to conjure up with the word _hospital_. He could feel the haze of drugs weighing on him heavily, and he was tempted to let it pull him under again when he heard voices nearby.

"How is he?"

"It's bad. Six stab wounds, half a dozen slashes, concussion, broken ribs, punctured lung. It was the blood loss that almost got him though."

"Pressure bottomed out in the ambulance. We got him back, but it was close. You guys anywhere yet?"

"CSU is still processing, but so far no DNA or prints. Place was a mess. That boy put up one hell of a fight."

"Damn right he did."

"Any idea who could’ve done this?"

"Clinton Burris comes to mind.”

“Yeah, but last I checked, he’s in maximum security lock up. He’s on my shit list too, but how could he?”

“Man like that has connections, Chimney. He’s responsible for this. I just have to prove it.”

As Buck listened, memories came back to him in pieces. Images slammed into him, one after another. A fight, a knife, blood, a man, black mask, ripping the mask off… His mind hit a wall going a thousand miles an hour. That face. He knew that face. He'd seen it somewhere, he just couldn't place it.

A soft sound to Buck’s left brought him back to the present and he struggled for a moment to open his eyes. When his lids finally parted, he saw a man in pale blue scrubs and a white jacket filling a syringe. Blearily, Buck’s eyes found the man's face. He stiffened. _That face…_

Adrenaline shot through his system as he recognized him. He tried to call out, but he gagged on something hard in his throat. Buck began struggling, trying desperately to move away from the man. All the while, his throat worked, trying to vocalize his terror.

"What the hell?" Eddie’s voice cut through the fear as he rushed into the room, followed closely by Bobby, Athena, and Chimney. "What's happening?"

"He woke up and started struggling against the ventilator." The man answered, quickly capping the syringe and stuffing it into his pocket. "I'll go get Dr. Kline." With that, he ran out of the room.

"Easy, kid." Bobby soothed, sitting in the edge of the bed and smoothing back Buck’s hair. "You're in the hospital. Everything's gonna be okay." Buck barely heard him as he tried to speak over whatever was in his throat and _oh God just get it out…_

"No no no no no, leave that alone, buddy." Eddie cautioned as he pulled Buck’s hands back to his side. "You're on a ventilator. You need that to help you breathe, okay? The tube needs to stay in for a little while." Desperate to be understood, Buck reached out with a flailing hand and latched onto Athena's sleeve with surprising strength. His words came out as no more than meaningless grunts.

"Shhh, just relax, Buckaroo. We’ve got you." Athena leaned in closer. Just as with back in the house, Buck seemed consumed by the need to communicate with her. She gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You're safe here, honey. I've got LAPD posted all over this floor. No one's going to get to you here." She promised. If anything, that seemed to agitate him more. By the time the doctor arrived, Bobby, Eddie, and Chim had been forced to hold Buck down to prevent him from injuring himself further.

"Here we go, Mr. Buckley." Dr. Kline said as he injected the contents on a syringe into the IV. "This will make you feel better." Turning to the others, he said, "This should put him out for a while."

"What was that?" Eddie asked, breathless with fear.

"Your friend has just been through a traumatic experience. He's confused and in pain and waking up on a ventilator is not the most pleasant experience. This type of reaction is normal. Right now, we just need to keep him calm and give his body a chance to heal." As Kline spoke, Buck could feel the drugs dragging him back under.

"Don't fight it, Buck." Bobby said softly, carding his fingers gently through his hair as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Pain brought Buck back to consciousness. It was small, just a twinge in his arm. The drugs from earlier were still in his system, weighing down on him oppressively. It took him longer than it should've to realize that it had come from something pulling on his IV. He rolled his eyes languidly over just in time to see the man from before plunge a syringe into his line. They locked eyes as he depressed the plunger and, in that moment, Buck knew that he was dead. He closed his eyes and never heard the shouts as he tumbled backward into the welcoming darkness.

"Police! On your knees, do it now!"

* * *

Voices swirled around him like smoke; there, but too illusive to grab. Buck let them wash over him as he lay there and tried to grasp their meaning.

"That was too close. We almost lost him this time." A deep voice rumbled.

"Did lose him." Another voice corrected. "Three times, actually. We let him die three times."

"You can't talk like that." A woman said quietly. "There's no way we could've known."

"Buck knew. He kept trying to tell me. That's why he panicked when he woke up the first time. He must've recognized him." Another woman said bitterly.

"We figure out who he is?"

"His name's Andre DeWitt. He was an LAPD evidence tech and a longtime associate of Clinton Burris. He was at the scene where Buck took down Burris. Once we arrested him and got him into interrogation, the greedy son of a bitch thought he’d get a deal. He flipped on Burris and told us everything before we even made an offer.”

“So, Burris was the one behind it?”

“Oh yes. You see, for years he’s had DeWitt as his inside man, working inside law enforcement to destroy evidence and mislead investigations. When he finally got arrested, Burris used him to track down and kill Buck. He knew the case would fall apart without his testimony.”

“And you actually cut him a deal?”

“I didn’t say that. Like I said, DeWitt ratted on Burris before we even gave him an inch. I guess he figured his information was so good we’d reward him or something, like we didn’t just arrest him for attempted murder. Dumbass.”

As he listened, the words began to bring him back to consciousness. Slowly, fragments of memories surfaced and assembled themselves into a fuzzy picture. With awareness came pain, prompting him to open his eyes. It took a few tries, but finally his lids fluttered open.

"Ouch…" Buck managed to croak before he started to cough. Six heads whipped around and suddenly he was surrounded, his family looking down at him with obvious concern.

"Easy, buddy. You just came off the ventilator. Hang on a sec." Eddie said, spooning an ice chip from a nearby cup into his mouth. Buck accepted it gratefully, savoring the feeling of the icy coolness on his abused throat.

"You're in pain." Bobby observed quietly as he surreptitiously pressed the call button. Buck just nodded, the beeping of the heart monitor speaking for him.

"Just breathe through it, man. Like we practiced." Chimney coached. "In, two, three, four…hold, two, three, four…out, two, three, four…" He continued like that until the nurse finally arrived with the medication. The relief in Buck’s body was immediate. The awful tension leaked from his shoulders and he sagged tiredly back into the mattress. With the pain faded for the moment, more pressing thoughts surfaced. Panic started to overwhelm him again, but he lacked the strength for a physical reaction. Still, Maddie noticed.

"Buck? What's wrong?" Her small hand squeezed his.

"The…man." He whispered. "Not…nurse…" Buck knew his explanation was vague at best, but talking suddenly seemed harder than it should be. Even so, the others seemed to understand. Athena perched on the end of the bed and clapped a hand gently on Buck’s leg.

"We got him, Buck." She assured. "He's in custody now. He can't hurt you again." Athena paused, glancing guiltily at the floor before continuing. "I'm sorry I didn't figure it out sooner. You kept trying to tell me, but I didn't understand."

"S'not your fault." Buck slurred. When he felt he'd made his point, he changed the subject. "How…bad?" He asked. Hen sighed.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, Buckaroo. It's not good." She quickly ran through the list of injuries he received in the fight with DeWitt. "And if that wasn't enough, you nearly died from the overdose." At Buck’s confused look, Maddie continued.

"When DeWitt came after you here in the hospital, he tried to kill you by injecting a massive dose of morphine into your IV line. Athena arrived in time to stop him, but DeWitt was still able to inject half of the syringe. We nearly lost you." She finished quietly.

"Doc says you're gonna be okay, but it's gonna take some time." Eddie added.

"Home?" Buck asked hopefully. Chim shook his head.

"Not yet, buddy. You're gonna have to stay here a while, okay? But we'll stay with you." It was disappointing to hear, but Buck had expected it. In all honesty, he knew he'd never make it out the bed. Even now, he could feel his eyes closing of their own accord.

"Sleep, kiddo. We'll be here when you wake up." Bobby promised as he gently tucked the covers around him.

* * *

It was nearly a month before Buck was able to come home. After weeks stuck within the antiseptic walls of the hospital, he expected to feel comforted when he returned to his apartment. However, as Bobby pulled into the parking lot, Buck could feel his heart begin to pound uncomfortably in his chest.

"You okay, man?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah." Buck lied around a throatful of glass.

Climbing out the car was a group effort, requiring both Eddie and Chim to hoist him down to the pavement. Both men maintained a firm grip on their friend as Buck worked to overcome the pain and dizziness.

"You good?" Chim asked when Buck finally straightened and tried to shrug out of their grip.

"Never better." Buck muttered sourly. It wasn't like him to be pessimistic, but something about being back at the apartment had him on edge. He was nudged out of his dreary thoughts as Bobby came around behind him, steady as ever.

"Ready?"

"Guess so." If his gloomy demeanor surprised him, Bobby didn't let it show. Instead, he hooked an arm around him and slowly led him toward the building, Eddie and Chim close behind.

"You know, I could have the guest room ready for you in a few minutes. It wouldn’t be a problem. I worry about you being all alone in here.”

“I told you, Bobby. I don’t want to impose on you and Athena and the kids. I know you don’t mind, but it’s not that big of a house and I know Athena’s parents are coming over soon.” Buck dismissed the offer politely.

“We can delay their trip. I’m serious, we can-" They were almost to the front door when Buck suddenly stopped walking. Bobby looked over and the terrified look in Buck’s wide-eyed stare caught him off guard. "Buck? Are you alright?" He said nothing, just stood there, stock still and trembling. Bobby could feel Buck’s heart hammering against his ribs. He followed his gaze over to the door, where maintenance had done a hasty, mismatched repair. The knob didn’t quite fit and the paint didn’t match the rest of the hall. Realization dawned on them. Chim moved forward, standing between them and door as if to guard him from whatever lay inside. Eddie placed a hand on Buck’s cheek, gently but firmly turning his face toward his.

"It's over, Buck." He whispered, loud enough so only he could hear. "He can't hurt you anymore. You're safe with us. And you don't ever have to go back in there if you don't want, okay?" Buck nodded, visibly trying to calm himself.

"Okay." He answered, equally as quiet.

“Then it’s settled. Chim and Bobby are gonna go pack you a bag. You and I are gonna head back out to the car for a bit, alright?” Buck gave him a questioning look.

“I don’t understand. Where am I-“

“You’re staying with me, buddy. I didn’t like you coming back here anyways, but you were so set on it.” Eddie asserted. His eyes grew glassy and red as the others moved into the apartment. “And I need to have you close, where I can keep an eye on you. I almost lost you, Buck. Neither of us are okay, and it’s gonna take some time before anything starts to feel normal again. So maybe we just start with this?”

“I think that’s a good plan.” Buck replied shakily, his lips curving up slightly. Eddie returned the smile and led him slowly out into the bright sunshine.

* * *

The pillow was damp. And sticky. That was the first thing Buck noticed on his first morning staying in the Diaz the household. He blinked open his gritty eyes and there sat Christopher, grinning brightly in his Minecraft pajamas, clutching an overflowing glass of orange juice.

“Good morning Buck.” He beamed. More juice sloshed onto the bed, but he didn’t seem to notice. Buck laughed a little.

“Morning, buddy. You bringing me breakfast in bed?”

“Daddy said you still weren’t feeling good. He always has me drink orange juice when I’m sick.” Christopher said with a knowing look. Then, he lowered his voice and added, seriously, “You must have been really sick ‘cause you were in the hospital a long time.”

“I was pretty sick.” Buck admitted. “But I’m getting better. I think it’s because you kept bringing me ice cream every time you and your dad visited.” He carefully took the cup from Chris’s hands and made a show of taking a grateful sip.

“I was really scared when daddy said you got hurt. He wouldn’t let me come see you at first.” Christopher pouted. Buck felt a surge of affection at the way he stuck his lip out.

“He was just trying to watch out for you, bud. For a while, it was kind of dangerous and scary and, because we love you, none of us wanted you to see that. And I was so sick I wouldn’t have known that you were there. But, the important thing is that you came to see me when I needed you the most and I can’t thank you enough for that.” Buck said sincerely, setting the cup aside and pulling Christopher into as tight of a hug as he could manage.

“Whoa whoa whoa! Morning cuddles? _Without me?_ Christopher, you’re killing me!” Eddie cried out from the door, feigning hurt while the crinkles around his eyes told a different story. Buck just smiled and patted an empty section of the bed.

“Come on, dad!” Christopher giggled, waving him over. Eddie needed no encouragement and flopped down between them, wrapping an arm around both his son and his best friend.

“Now, someone please tell me. Why is this pillow _so wet?"_


End file.
